The Furthest Thing From A Hero (DISCONTINUED)
by 1ForThePriceOf2
Summary: WILL BE REWRITTEN. Dio Brando was dead. Now he's not. However, saying that he's alive again might not exactly be correct, either. Izuku Midoriya was all alone. Now he's not. However, saying that he's gained a friend might not exactly be correct, either.
1. The Meeting

' _Well, this was a disappointment.'_

That was all that DIO could think as his blue-hued soul drifted upwards. The angle at which he was suspended gave him the most wonderful view of the aftermath of his battle with Jotaro, or to be more precise, his - well, partially his - decimated corpse. A battered steamroller, so completely mangled that it was no longer identifiable as such, smoked in the background after being crushed virtually flat in those two seconds that it was caught between the impossibly rapid fists of The World and Star Platinum. Some feet away, the aforementioned Joestar stood bloody, beaten, bruised and victorious.

It was rather surreal, to say the least. Had DIO entertained such an idea of his demise in as utterly humiliating of a manner, he would have expected it to feel any number of emotions, most of which were some synonym for either terrible fury, seething anger or unholy rage. After all, who could possibly have bested him, DIO the mighty? DIO the immortal? DIO, the owner of the most powerful Stand ever to walk the Earth? The very notion was taboo, and he would have ruthlessly executed and devoured anybody who implied as much; keeping appearances up in front of his subordinates was something he considered highly important.

Now that the moment had arrived, however, DIO couldn't say that he felt much of anything. Rather, he would have described his current emotional state as merely peeved, or perhaps mildly irked at a stretch. Whether that was because of the new experience of becoming a disembodied soul taking up the majority of his focus, the shock of having his entire world crumble before him - no pun intended - or something else entirely, he couldn't say. Whatever the truth may have been, this sudden acceptance was a huge leap from the defiant passion he had displayed merely moments ago during the climax of the encounter. To go from howling at the top of Jonathan's lungs in pain to whatever this was in such a short time was quite the display, even for him.

As he steadily rose to the heavens, he couldn't help but entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe, everything he'd done since becoming a vampire wasn't worth it. Over the course of his unnaturally long life he had taken part in such activities as endlessly torturing JoJo in his youth, slowly poisoning and then stabbing the kindly elder Joestar who took him in off the streets without a second thought, defiling the corpses of 300-year-old historical figures, dedicating his unlife to exterminating his adoptive brother's descendants and much more. Even then, that was before you considered the quite literal hundreds of innocent lives he had snuffed out to further his own desires. And for what? What had he actually accomplished, besides mass murder, psychological trauma and extensive property damage? He hadn't attained Heaven, eliminated JoJo's bloodline or done anything resembling a real achievement throughout his life. For God's sake, he hadn't even finished his education in law. Nothing had come of all the misery he had brought into the world; after all was said and done, there was no end to justify his many atrocities. So, wouldn't that mean that his unholy existence was also a wasted one? That his many years spent formulating his plan to attain Heaven weren't actually worth the hefty price that the rest of humanity had paid in his stead with their tears, blood and very lives when he finally surfaced?

Was he sorry?

…

' _No.'_

As soon as that single thought passed through his mind, DIO felt his steady ascension jump to a rather abrupt halt. If DIO had to compare it to something, then he would have settled on the feeling that one experiences when mindlessly meandering, consumed by their own thoughts, only end up being violently pulled back to reality after accidentally colliding with a lamppost. It was a very jarring experience, almost as if he was somehow snagged on the masonry of the bridge beneath not unlike a waistcoat on a doorknob. To add to that bizarre sensation, the fact that he currently lacked any sort of physical form that could be snagged on something meant that whatever this mysterious force was, it was acting upon his very soul. However, not even this alarming revelation was as troubling to DIO as the realisation that, while he was preoccupied with its existence to begin with, the power had intensified.

While DIO was merely suspended before, only being kept from rising up, he was now actively being dragged down. Even more pressingly, it was growing stronger still. He could feel the increasing pull everywhere on and in him, from the surface of this poor substitute for a body right into the deepest reaches of his mind. And DIO, in his blue, ethereal state, could not fight back at all. The force had complete dominion over every aspect of his being, and that was something that he feared. Not like the dull, unsure pulse of anticipation from when he had offered his Stand to Enrico, or the cornered-animal fury he had displayed moments ago against Jotaro. No, this was different, this was absolute, and he knew that he had no chance of escape whatsoever.

For the first time in over a century, Dio Brando was truly terrified.

Even if he could have fought back, it was too late to try anything now; the magnitude of that otherworldly attraction had increased to the point where it would be useless to resist, even with his overwhelming vampiric strength. As he approached the tarmac of the bridge, the last thing he saw before being swallowed by the ground was Jotaro staring down at his - Jonathan's - demolished body. The last thing he heard was, warped through the blue tint around him almost as if he was submerged, the teenage punk's choice of a final, scathing one-liner.

"There's only one reason why you lost, Dio. Just one simple reason. You pissed me off."

And then the world was still.

…

For a while, at least. Then the world was red.

Red, everywhere. Reds of every imaginable shade bled from the surroundings, flooding his eyes with offensive scarlet hues. The onslaught of colour infiltrated all of his senses even through the bluish tint to everything, painting them all with bizarre, eldritch sensations that culminated as a redness that even a vampire such as himself, who had dined on the sanguine nectar of the human vascular system as a fun pastime, could never have imagined. He tried to squeeze his eyelids shut and push on them with his fingers, to rip his very eyes from their sockets, to do anything that would stop the assault on his vision. Alas, he was only reminded of the fact that he couldn't do any of those things without eyelids, fingers, eyes or any other body parts to work with. There was nothing he could do to escape, DIO realised. He was powerless, a mere slave to this torture, doomed to a fate of descending deeper and deeper into the crimson nightmare.

* * *

After what seemed to DIO like a time comparable to his century-long confinement beneath the waves, the swimming shades began to disperse slightly. While scarlet, vermillion and various other shades of red were still the dominant colour of the environment, making up the entirety of the vast, swirling vortex of a sky above him, different colours had started to pierce through the monochromatic veil and take various forms around him. He appeared to be staring up at a cheaply painted ceiling with visibly sloppy brush marks, in the centre of which was a lampshade decorated with the impossibly wide smile of a blond man with a face made of sharp angles. For whatever reason, looking at it for too long evoked the strangest feeling of nausea.

Slowly sitting up as the last vestiges of redness faded, DIO found that the rest of the small space was decorated with similar images of the same character. Through the darkness surrounding him he could see other faces here and there, but this grinning buffoon was definitely the most popular by a mile. Posters, figurines and every other imaginable breed of memorabilia were crammed in wherever they would fit. There was even a full-body cardboard cutout poking out of a closet that fully displayed the man's inhumanly muscular figure and ridiculous costume. He certainly appreciated a good figure, but this was borderline insane. Whoever owned this room obviously had a very unhealthy obsession.

Before he could inspect anything further, the door a few feet in front of him swung open with a crash and revealed a short, stocky woman wearing a plain-looking red cardigan and long, green hair tied in a ponytail. Panic was written over her face in the form of pouring sweat and wide eyes.

She rushed to his side and, to DIO's boundless disbelief, snatched his hands up in a clammy grip that managed to be simultaneously vice-like and gentle and launched a torrent of foreign foreign words directly into his face. Despite his best efforts, the confused vampire understood only the basics and got a mangled string of words for his trouble.

"Honey! I hear shouting! Okay? Hurt bad you, need hospital?!"

DIO sat speechless, taken aback by the woman's audacity. This woman was getting ahead of herself! How dare the notion of treating him, DIO, like a defenceless babe cross her undeveloped excuse of a mind even for a moment? Who did she think she was? Only the most extraordinary of concubines would he allow to breathe the same air as him without being drained of blood and discarded with as much care as an empty bottle out of a window in a London slum; his standards as an undying creature of darkness would allow not even an iota less. To have such a plain, utterly unremarkable human show _concern_ for him was a sickening insult to the immortality he had claimed a century prior!

With the affronted disgust befitting of a god such as himself, DIO tore himself from her grasp and rose to his full height as a golden tempest of Stand energy erupted from him like a floodgate of pure power, bathing the tiny space in otherworldly light. He felt the imposing figure of The World manifest behind him and raise a single aureate fist in anticipation of the punishment - and afterwards, fresh meal - it would supply.

At least, he tried to. In reality he couldn't bring the limbs before him to move even the smallest amount no matter how desperately he tried, nor would his Stand appear. He couldn't feel the familiar sensation that tugged at his soul whenever he used The World or the feeling of absolute power he loved to revel in when he brought it out. No, what actually happened was that he leaned forward against his own accord and wrapped his arms around the short woman in a tender hug and responded in a voice that wasn't his.

"Worry too much you, have bad dream no hurt," soothed the voice. It was young, shockingly so after spending over a century used to the smooth, bassy tones of his adulthood. The tone was gentle and caring, and the love it held was obvious. At these words the woman's agitation visibly faded as the startled expression relaxed into more of a relieved one, though not completely.

"Tell truth you do? Lie not for make me calm?" she asked, her grip slightly tightening in response to her uncertainty.

"What son I would be, lie to you?" he smiled while pulling away. "Back sleep now, tired I. Please, fine I, promise."

At this the woman turned, shuffled out of the doorway and, with one last uneasy look, closed the door, leaving the yellow glow coming from the gap beneath it and a dim night light in the corner as the only sources of illumination.

Left with only his thoughts and bereft of distractions, the full force of DIO's panic was finally allowed to hit him like a freight train. What was going on?! Why couldn't he move?! More importantly, why couldn't he feel his Stand? He considered for a few terrifying moments the possibility that he had somehow lost it forever with his earlier demise, but quickly dashed the thought. The World was a part of his soul, the all-important part of any person that made them truly alive and was imperative for existence, so the notion of it disappearing was laughable. He could still think and was undoubtedly self aware, so he hadn't lost his soul and thus he still had his Stand. Didn't his friend Enrico's ability prove as much?

Still, that left the matter of his inability to move his body, or rather his inability to _control it_. It wasn't that he couldn't feel his body, far from it; every flex of a muscle, every brush of the bedding against his skin was as rich and vivid as if he was back with the body of his adoptive brother, laying among the many shelves of his expansive library and absorbing all the knowledge that wonderful treasure trove had to offer. He could even feel the cold, which was an almost dreamlike sensation after becoming a vampire left him mostly immune to discomfort stemming from temperature. No, his concern was that while he could feel everything just fine, not one bit of it was under his control. From moving limbs or eyes right down to controlling individual cells with his vampiric powers, none of it was available to him. It was almost as if he was in another person's body just along for… the ride…

' _That couldn't be it. Could it?'_ thought DIO. ' _Is it really possible for two souls to inhabit a body simultaneously? The idea is outlandish, but the more I consider it the more it makes sense… Yes, that must be it! After I died my soul must have clung to life and, with no other option, invaded someone else as a last-ditch effort avoid being destroyed! I'm stuck spectating in another person's body!'_

What would he do with this information? More to the point, what _could_ he do with this information? It was obvious now that he couldn't control his host's body. From the looks of things they didn't even realise he was there unless that talk about bad dreams was anything relating to having one's body invaded.

At least he recognised the dialect, though: Japanese. The only reason he understood the language was because Japan was becoming a fascinating force of innovation in the world and some of his mercenaries hailed from the distant island nation. It was also the tongue he had lifted his Stand cry from, but back to present matters.

Once the sound of the short woman's footsteps against the aged wooden floorboards vanished, the pair of arms attached to him reached out into the darkness and flipped a switch somewhere on the wall. New light flooded the room, the sudden brightness burning his eyes - another forgotten sensation - and forcing him to squint. The body pushed itself up and walked over to a small mirror on a shelf DIO hadn't noticed until now. What he saw within almost made him die a third time.

Looking back at him was not the handsome, angular visage framed with golden locks of which he had been the proud owner for over one hundred years, but the frail and meek-looking face of a young teenager. Gone were his high cheekbones, sharp nose and intimidating glare, replaced with juvenile features such as a smooth jaw and anxious eyes so wide that looked like they belonged in a cupboard of dinner plates rather than on any human. Dark green hair flowed in every direction in an unchecked mass of curls and patchy freckles dotted both cheeks.

Whoever this person was, they looked absolutely pathetic.

DIO could only watch as they proceeded to give themselves a full-face examination, stretching the skin to every possible angle as if looking for some type of disease. What kind of host was this?! He, DIO, should inherit a strong body from a powerful fighter! Instead he was stuck with some flimsy-looking juvenile that looked like he'd struggle in a boxing match against a newborn deer!

He would have found the entire process insufferably dull were it not for the fact that he noticed something lurking just beneath the collar of the red, white and blue pyjamas he wore. A bruise, dark and ugly and greenish around the edges, blemished the otherwise pale skin of the boy's neck like a blot of ink spilled onto a blank canvas, seeping deep into the fibres and spreading its black influence wherever its many tendrils could reach. Such sights swiftly brought back unpleasant memories.

' _A helpless child abused by someone much larger and stronger than themselves…'_

DIO shook himself from that train of thought. No, he wouldn't even go there. That man was nothing, little more than a grim reminder of his days as a helpless, weak human, and deserved to be treated as such. Besides, his pleasant exchange with that short woman, his host's mother from the sound of it, coupled with the room still filled with valuables that could easily be sold for a bottle of cheap booze were quick to rule out _that_ possibility.

The ritual continued on for about five more minutes by DIO's reckon, during which the owner of his new body had examined every part of his face right down to the roof of his mouth. It appeared to be for naught, however, as the boy promptly let out a sigh of resignation before trudging back to his bed and flopping down on top of it. 'What could he have been looking for?' was DIO's last thought before the child succumbed to slumber's sultry seductions and dragged both of them into a world of darkness.

But, just like before, it didn't stay dark for long. The infinite depths of the void quickly receded and gave way to one of the most concurrently captivating and baffling things the ancient undead had ever laid eyes upon. He stood on a flat plane beneath a shifting sky of muted rainbow hues that melted in and out of shapes in a manner not dissimilar to if someone managed to animate the colours on the inside of a mussel's shell. The ground he found himself on was perfectly level to the most precise measurement and looked around be constructed of smooth, pale marble plastered with intricate patterns, though these ones were considerably more stationary than the enigmatic ceiling above. Off in the distance was a horizon that stretched off further than he could see, blurring off into nothingness long before he could get anywhere near to seeing where it ended.

But wait, something felt profoundly different about himself. His eyes were drawn downwards and, to no small amount of glee, DIO found that he was back in his own body once again. Barely believing his luck, he raised his arms to verify it. The extremities that greeted him were not the bone-thin arms of a meek teenager, but muscled tree trunks ending in two sets of wicked sable nails that looked strong and sharp enough to cleave flesh as easily as a ship's bow through still waters on a calm summer's day. Further down his body was JoJo's massive barrel chest, as wide and well-muscled as he remembered, and moving even further led him onto the lower body, legs and feet that he had been the proud owner of for a hundred years. A hand rose unbidden up to his left shoulder and…

He grinned. Yes, it was good to be back.

To DIO it felt almost like reuniting with an old friend, which on some level it really was. After the initial euphoria wore off enough to allow rational thought, he noticed that his clothing was not in fact what he had been wearing when he died, but instead the more comfortable outfit he spent most of his time relaxing in. His skintight top had vanished, leaving his upper body open for the world to marvel at, and his legs were covered by a pair of baggy yellow trousers that lacked the heart-shaped kneepads of his battle attire. His bracers were not of golden rings but fine cloth, each decorated with a polished emerald that stood out against the brown like a pair of green suns. Most notable of all was his hair, which cascaded freely down his neck and shoulders in a lustrous golden mane instead of being bound by a green headband or pushed up into short spikes. So a wandering soul like him didn't necessarily wear what they died with, but what they enjoyed dressing in the most? Intriguing.

"WAH! W-Who are you?! Where am I?!"

DIO spun around on reflex with his fangs bared in a catlike snarl. However, it faded instantly after he realised exactly who was standing across from him. After all, just those few minutes meant that he'd recognise the unruly mop of green hair, wide eyes and scrawny figure anywhere. Staring back from a mere few feet away was his new body.

* * *

Somewhere in the sprawling city of Musutafu a young man glanced at the time on his phone and sighed. The sun was getting ready to sink down behind the city skyline, its deep orange glow seeping into the surrounding clouds and casting long shadows over the metropolis. Many individual noises intermingled to form an urban ambience and the familiar scents of exhaust fumes, cooking and about a hundred other olfactory flavours tickled his nostrils. There was a chill to the wind characteristic of this time of year which nipped at his nose and cheeks like a child seeking constant attention.

Midoriya sighed again as he continued his steady slog home. He hadn't expected to take this long, but like most things in his life, it was what it was. He'd been attending cram school to try and boost his grades - not to say they were particularly bad, but his mother always said that every little helps - and had then been roped into helping clean up. Well, he said helping, but his 'teammates' had promptly abandoned him to take care of work fit for three people on his own. To top it all off, Kacchan and his friends had cornered him after finally walking out and… well, the ever-present throb of his neck intensified at the memory. So, here he was, red sneakers plodding forth one after the other over the uneven asphalt-

"Gah!"

A car flew by barely a metre away from the plucky fifteen year old's face, the artificial wind sending his hair into a frenzy and the pure fright knocking him flat onto his rear. The automobile's horn blared angrily as the driver stuck their arm out of the window and flipped him a rather rude hand signal. "Watch the road, you damn kid!" they yelled over the sound of their vehicle before they turned a corner and disappeared for good.

Izuku went to apologise like always, but his voice trailed off once the futility of calling after a driver that had already vanished from sight dawned on him. "Oh, what's the point?" he mumbled dejectedly as he dusted himself off and crossed the road, this time keeping a cautious eye out for any speeding boxes of metal and crass drivers.

He counted himself lucky as the car drove away - a second earlier and it would've reduced him to a red smear on the road. Ah, well, at least the towering apartment block before him meant he was home now. Maybe his mom wouldn't be too worried this time.

One climb of a concrete stairwell later and Izuku was standing in front of his apartment door, the veneer surface sun-bleached from overlong exposure. A silvery key was clutched between his fingers and glinted in the overhead light, trembling slightly. Taking a deep breath, the greenette mentally prepared himself for the oncoming storm as he slid the metal tool into the lock and turned.

The moment he put the key in the door it swung inwards, very nearly carrying the short student with it, and revealed an extremely worried-looking Inko Midoriya. Her face was pale and dripping with sweat, and her hands were clasped at her chest in a white-knuckled death grip.

"IZUKU! Oh, thank the lord you're home! You weren't back for dinner and I started getting worried but you didn't return any of my calls and then it started to get dark out and I started thinking maybe I should call the police-"

For the second time in five minutes, Izuku Midoriya sighed. It had been a long day, and from how things were shaping up it wasn't going to end any time soon.

* * *

Dinner was a fairly normal affair. A hearty meal of rice, fish and vegetables had been lovingly prepared by his mom, which the two of them polished off in short order what with Izuku having not eaten since lunch and Inko being unable to eat while as worried as she had been. The older woman had peppered her son with question after question in an odd sort of manner, showing concern but trying to rein herself in so as to not smother her child.

Did he tell her the truth? How today had been one pitfall after another? How Kacchan had added to his collection of bruises and welts for the mere fact that he was Quirkless? No, of course not. She didn't deserve that. She'd just end up worrying even more and running herself ragged as though she didn't already do that every day at work just to keep a roof over their heads. To her, he'd had another average day at school where he behaved, learned and didn't get walked over by just about every Quirked kid in the school. A difficult lie to tell, but a necessary one.

As of now, the duo of mother and son were about finished with the cleanup. They stood near the sink with their forearms submerged in soapy water, suds falling off of both them and the dishes they scrubbed in chubby white clumps.

Izuku pushed the final cleaned plate away from himself. "Uh, Mom? May I be excused?" He didn't usually just leave after doing the bare minimum like this and would instead stay and take over his mother's work while waving off her protests about fairness, but after the disaster of a day he'd just endured the only thing he wanted was to sleep.

Inko, who had been daydreaming into her own pile of dishes, started and looked up. "What? Oh, yes, that's fine. Go ahead, sweetie."

Izuku frowned as he dried himself off with the nearest towel. His mother had a sort of depressed look on her face, the sort a person gets when something bad's happening but there's not a thing they can do about it. He set down the towel and moved over to his mother. Sleep could wait just a bit longer.

"I love you, Mom," he said, and wrapped his arms around her in a loving embrace. He poured every bit of his affection into it, and secretly half-hoping that it would convey the emotions he so desperately wanted to voice but couldn't find the courage for.

Inko looked shocked for a split second before softly smiling and returning the squeeze. "I love you too, honey. Now go on, you look tired and I can handle the rest myself."

The younger Midoriya nodded, planted one last kiss on her cheek and headed off towards his room. The door closed behind him and a light switch flicked on, dousing the darkness and revealing the sacred safe haven that was his room.

And what a room it was. Well over a decade of unhalted hoarding of hero-themed memorabilia crammed wall to wall with all sorts of hero merchandise. From every inch of every space the always-jovial face of All Might stared back at him with his trademark impossibly wide grin, radiating pure confidence from each scattered sheet of paper and plastic toy. Practically speaking, however, it was a more simple affair. A single computer, quite the dinosaur by modern standards, sat on a desk against the wall. A modest wardrobe had been crammed into the corner next to a bed, the latter of which was decorated with yet more All Might. Reaching into the closet's interior, the green-haired boy's hand found what he was looking for and tugged it out to behold in all the yellow-tinted light's glory: his limited edition All Might pyjamas. Slipping his school uniform off and exchanging it for the red, white and blue bedclothes, Izuku could feel the urge to strike a heroic pose coursing red-hot through his veins.

Unfortunately, the urge to sleep was stronger still.

Izuku flopped down onto the mattress with all of the grace and beauty of a dead sloth, making it squeak in protest as it adapted to his weight. He just happened to collide face-first with the Top Hero's grinning visage, the contrast of his shaded eyes and incandescent smile the only thing he could see.

' _Don't listen to what anyone else says, keep your chin up and keep charging ahead, was it…?'_ he mused as he blinked away some uninvited tears. ' _This is the path I've chosen, so I guess I'll just do like the Pro Heroes do, and tough it out!'_ With one last muffled "ha, ha ha," into the bedsheets, Izuku's consciousness faded and he nodded off.

…

Pain!

Painpainpainpainpainpain!

PAIN!

Izuku writhed and howled in agony as his vision turned a bright shade of red and sent scarlet waves of pain through his being. Red, red, red was the only thing he could see, the only think he could hear, taste, smell, think about. All of the muscles in his body tightened like coiled wires as he tried to claw at his face when even squeezing them tightly enough to hurt did naught to halt the crimson onslaught. Alas, the sensory overload made it nigh impossible to think, let alone force his paralysed limbs to obey him. The agony was far greater than anything else he had ever experienced in his life; it was as if he had been thrust into a pool of boiling blood.

What was this? When would it stop? _Would_ it stop? Izuku could only barely comprehend these concepts as he was ravaged from the inside by the redness that grasped and clutched and cut and scraped and stabbed him from the inside. The only thing left of his mind at that moment was one of the most basic instincts humankind possessed - flight. The need to run, to call for help, to do anything to escape the torture he was in! Anything! Anyone!

 _Help!_

 _HELP!_

" _This can't be! I'm Dio! I'm Dio!"_

But then, as quickly as it had appeared, the agonising redness vanished without a trace. There was no residual soreness, he could see things other than that terrifying crimson veil and his body was no longer locked in one position. Daring to sit up in spite of the fear that he'd just incite another fit, Izuku took a brief moment to check that he hadn't died and gone to the afterlife or something. Yep, there was the cardboard All Might peeking out of the closet - had he dislodged that when he fetched his pyjamas? - a poster of Hawks the Wing Hero, a few Endeavours scattered amongst their fellow Pro Hero figurines… Yes, this was definitely his room, the comforting constant where nothing ever changed and there were no unpleasant surprises.

Beads of cold sweat rolled down his face. Raising his hand to his chest, he gave the stylised sleep shirt a pat test and groaned at the results. Sodden. Still, though, that problem was considerably lower on his list of priorities than the top two questions currently running rampant through his head: what was that redness, and who was that talking at the very end? If he remembered rightly, they had been shouting that their name was… Dio?

He almost jumped out of his skin when his door flew open with a resounding crash as it hit the corner of the computer desk and almost dislodged a tiny All Might from his perch, ripping him away from his thoughts in a flash. With speed unseen from the stocky woman since she was about twenty kilos lighter, she rushed over to her son and snatched up his hands in her own.

"Honey! I heard you shouting! Are you okay?! Are you hurt anywhere?! Do you need the hospital?!"

Izuku immediately moved in for a gentle and comforting hug, stopping his mother's breathless ramble in its tracks when he enclosed her short body in an embrace.

"I'm fine, Mom. I just had a bad dream, it's okay," he soothed, patting her softly on the back and looking into her green eyes that shone with tears ready to fall at a moment's notice. It wasn't a lie, either. No matter how vivid it had been, that suffocating red veil had to have been a dream, otherwise he would've been left with some sort of reminder of a pain as unbearably horrific as that, surely.

"You really mean that, Izuku? You're not just lying for my sake or anything, are you? You can tell me anything, you know," she prompted, waiting for her son to respond with baited breath.

"What kind of son would lie to their mom?" he joked, hoping to dilute the tension somewhat. "I'm gonna try and go back to sleep now since I'm pretty tired. Trust me, please. I'm fine, I promise."

She looked like she was about to protest, but seemed to decide against it as she shut the door behind her and left Izuku alone in the darkness. Once her footsteps disappeared back towards the kitchen, the teenager stood from his bed, flicked on the light and walked over to his mirror. There were a few things that he needed to check.

It sounded weird, but behind all the pain there had been something _more_ , distinctly of substance that the swimming splotches of crimson didn't have. The closest thing Izuku could compare it to was seeing, say, a plastic cube amongst a pile of paper squares, which was admittedly a pretty crappy metaphor but the best that his shaken-up mind could formulate at that time. For a brief moment he'd been lucid enough to notice, and for that brief moment it was as if he'd transformed. And it had all felt so _real_. His toothpick arms had been replaced with enormous behemoths, his curly mop discarded in favour of a flowing mane, and he could have sworn he'd had fangs. In that second, he'd gone from a skinny weakling to a god.

Obviously he couldn't trust what was most likely some sort of unnaturally vivid nightmare, and he certainly didn't, but something at the back of his mind just would let up nagging until he gave it the time of day and looked in the mirror. At the very least, doing it would mean one less distraction from a nice eight hours of sleep.

* * *

Just as he expected, the ten minutes of searching turned up absolutely zilch. No bulging muscles, no cascading hair and no fangs were to be found. He was, without a doubt, the same old short, weak, Quirkless Izuku Midoriya he'd been for fourteen years. He let out a disappointed huff as he walked back to bed and clambered under the quilt, too miffed to pay any mind to his sweaty clothing. If anything good came from that fit of his, it would have been the sadly temporary sensation of power it had given him. He'd actually dared to dream that it was some sort of extremely late sign of his Quirk blooming. How stupid. But it was okay to dream, wasn't it? Of course, he'd been dreaming constantly ever since that fateful day at the doctor's office ten years ago.

And speaking of dreams, this was shaping up to be a particularly pretty one. At some point he'd fallen asleep without noticing and was now standing on a flat plane of pure white stone under a multicoloured sky that was like viewing a rainbow through ten camera filters.

' _This is sort of odd, but nice,'_ thought Izuku, ' _I guess I can enjoy this for a while.'_

At least, that's what he thought until he pivoted around and saw what could very well have been the largest man he'd ever seen his life. As soon as Izuku laid eyes on him the dreamlike atmosphere faded and was replaced by a cool chill that permeated down to his very soul. He didn't know why, but some primal instinct began to activate in the form of a crescendo of alarm bells going off all through his mind. This man… Something about him wasn't right. Thinking about it, something about this whole place wasn't right. The crystal-clear images, the lucidity, the sharpness of every sensation… This felt far too real to be just a normal dream!

"WAH! W-Who are you?! Where am I?!" Izuku yelled before thinking, an action he immediately regretted when the man whipped around to face him.

He was gargantuan, an absolute titan of a human being with powerful musculature to match visible across his entire shirtless torso. Blond hair fell down his shoulders like so many threads of spun gold right out of an old fairytale, while yellow trousers and and almost comical pair of curved shoes clothed his lower half. Glossy black claws tipped his fingers, which were curled into half-fists as though he couldn't decide whether to strike his enemy or carve them to pieces. Two eyes the colour of burnished gold glared directly into his own, emanating a menacing aura that sapped him of all his willpower and glued the helpless teenager to the spot.

A pang of pure, undiluted terror passed through him. This wasn't like the relatively tame fear of simple bodily harm he felt when he was confronted by Kacchan, either. No, this was completely different. For the first time ever, Izuku Midoriya feared for his life.

* * *

 **Hello readers old and new, and welcome to my new story! It's my first attempt at anything MHA, so I hope I don't disappoint. With that brief introduction out of the way, there are a few things I'd like to address.**

 **Firstly, for DIO's appearance I'm using his Stone Ocean appearance without the shirt, like when he's reading with Pucci. This is a notice for people who haven't read SO yet, just in case they don't know.**

 **Secondly, I want to make it clear that this won't be a ripoff of the popular JoJo/MHA story "Filthy Acts Done At A Reasonable Price". It may not be finished, but from what's already published I can safely say I'm going down a different route. Nevertheless, if anyone knows about any other similar stories to this one then I would ask them to please inform me so I don't accidentally end up making a carbon copy.**

 **Please don't hesitate to leave any sort of criticism whatsoever, and don't be afraid of sounding rude. It's the only way I'll improve, after all.**


	2. The Daily Grind

**Hello, everyone. Sorry for the wait, I've been doing other things as well as focusing on my other story, QLWMG. I just want to say right now that while I want to write both, this story is only my second priority and I'll be paying more attention to QLWMG for the most part. Sorry for any inconvenience that might cause in terms of my upload schedule, but it is how it is.**

 **Now, I have a question to ask you all. Do you think that I should mark POV changes with the characters' names? Usually I wouldn't resort to something so mundane and would instead use context clues, but in this case the characters are sharing the same body. This makes it rather difficult for the reader to follow at times because both characters experience the same things and the only thing that can reliably differentiate between them is DIO's broken interpretation of Japanese (which I'm gonna stop eventually anyway since writing what is essentially caveman speak can be quite a pain). Personally my choice would be to add them in to greatly reduce confusion, but I'm leaving it up to you readers.**

 **My plan is to remove them from the previous chapter and keep them in this one. If you prefer it I'll go back and quickly add them in, and if not I'll take them out. Please add an answer into the reviews you usually leave!**

 **Here's chapter two.**

* * *

 _-DIO-_

DIO studied his host standing before him with a scrutinising eye. It was a different experience altogether, looking at him from his own body, for even though DIO had acknowledged it before, from an adult's perspective the boy's scrawniness was now painfully evident. About a foot shorter than himself being generous and with nary a scrap of muscle definition on what parts of his wiry frame could be seen through the stylised pyjamas, this green-haired child must have felt like a man standing before a god. That was probably why he was quivering like an autumn leaf in the wind.

DIO straightened and turned around on the ball of his foot with a regal flourish. Well, he never was one to miss the opportunity to make a strong first impression.

"You're trying to make demands of me, DIO?" DIO's tone was carefully selected - soft, charismatic and smoother than the finest silk like when he would talk to his followers, yet just a dash of warning was sprinkled inside like an assassin's powdered cyanide hidden conspiratorially inside a fine meal. "I'm going to give you a chance, one opportunity to atone for your past transgression and introduce yourself properly. Let it never be said that DIO is not merciful."

The boy's eyes grew even more terrified and he scrambled to respond at once. "I-I-I'm I-Izuku M-Midoriya! It's a p-pleasure to meet you, sir!" he cried, dipping into a deep bow while still shaking.

"Hmm, Izuku Midoriya? It certainly sounds eastern." DIO played with the words in his mouth, as if experimenting to see if their flavour was to his liking. "But never mind that. Regardless of the fear you evidently feel, you have presented yourself most politely. The ability to overcome one's fear is an ability I, DIO, value. As such, I will return the favour."

DIO placed a hand on his unbeating heart. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Izuku Midoriya. My name is DIO."

Izuku straightened from his bow, now only at a forty-five degree angle to the vertical rather than ninety. His expression was uncertain, as if he couldn't believe he'd been let off that easily. "O-Oh, uh, t-thank you, Mr Dio, sir."

DIO frowned imperceptibly. This child hadn't truly understood the significance of the difference between Dio and DIO. He could hear it in the pronunciation. Where Dio Brando had been a mere youth who was lucky enough to have discovered the secrets of that time-weathered stone instrument, DIO was so much more. It was symbolic, proof of an awakening so great that only full capitalisation could come close to doing justice to those epiphanies he'd had during his near-century of confinement within Poseidon's shadowy depths. Dio had been a representation of evolution. DIO was a representation of rebirth.

Well, no matter. Not everyone could be expected to understand immediately, and certainly not a child. His guarded nature and apparent reluctance to say more than necessary would no doubt grate upon his nerves, too. He would have to rectify such problems at a later date, but for now they could be forgiven. Even more importantly, constructing a good relationship with the owner of his current vessel could only be a good thing.

"I must say, Izuku, I am quite impressed with your manners. It's always refreshing to speak with people who know how they should carry themselves. Were there a table with a tea set here, this would truly be a soirée of high society." The blond vampire allowed the corners of his lips to creep up slightly, though the gleaming golden globes that were his eyes never changed. "Speaking of which, it is a terrible shame that we have nowhere to rest our legs, is it not? Even an unpadded seat would-"

But DIO never got to finish the sentence as, midway through his sentence a deafening thud rang out through the milky void. It sounded as though something had been dropped from a great height into a surface too hard for it to withstand. Both parties snapped around to see what had caused the commotion, Izuku stepping back fearfully while DIO poised himself to strike at what could be a possible threat, but their surprise quickly gave way to confusion when they saw that they had been joined by a table and two chairs.

After glancing at each other, the two men cautiously approached the foreign object sitting about five meters from them. Even from a distance they could see the craftsmanship was exquisite, smooth wood finished with a dark varnish and carved with intricate designs that ranged from floral patterns to actual three-dimensional figures carved into the wood itself, protruding out like statues embedded in a church wall. The chairs were no different, high-backed and covered in the same style of markings. The seat and armrests were padded with midnight blue upholstery crisscrossed with golden thread.

The tabletop itself that was the most eye catching piece. It was made of a circular piece of stained glass the same midnight blue as the fabric complimented by smatterings of white and orange flecks, with arches of polished brass running across its surface like some overly complex Venn diagram, or maybe part of a stylised flower. However, when DIO properly looked at the surface, he was taken aback to see that the glass wasn't glass at all. The picture beneath the arches was three dimensional and extended far downwards, deeper than it logically should have gone given the relatively shallow depth of the table, and saw that some of the colourful patches could actually be observed moving. It was at that moment that all of the pieces clicked into place and DIO realised that he was looking down into a miniature universe.

A muted "whoah…" was Izuku's only response, his emerald eyes glued to the otherworldly object in front of him. He leaned forward to touch it but found that he couldn't go below the surface, the cool touch of smooth glass greeting him rather than whatever tiny space would feel like. Impossible design or not, the table was still functional, it seemed.

' _Fascinating…'_ DIO thought, '… _that such an object could exist. Perhaps there's something larger at play here.'_ He looked up to the sky for a moment. Well, whatever it was it appeared to want them comfortable. And given his particular sort of upbringing, he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Mr Dio, look over here. There's a tea set, too." And, sure enough, there was a second smaller, more mundane table originally hidden by the bulk of the first, upon which sat a simple bone-white tea set upon a pewter platter, complete with a small jug of milk.

One of DIO's black eyebrows crept upwards. He'd asked for something and it had appeared nearly instantly. Was this an effect of the world they were in? The two of them had only entered after Izuku fell asleep, after all, so it was entirely possible that it existed within a dream. It would explain the sudden appearance of furniture as well as the mystical, almost psychedelic landscape itself. Still, it was far to early to come to conclusions or to probe further for the sake of what was effectively a very shaky hypothesis. For now he'd simply bide his time and observe what happened from a passive perspective. That said, he wouldn't under any circumstances be doing it in discomfort.

"There's no sense leaving this here, is there?" DIO announced, abruptly dragging the shorter of the two out of his inspection of the ceramic tea set with a start. "Izuku Midoriya, how do you like your tea?"

* * *

 _-Izuku-_

"And you should take your elbows off of the table, as well. It's poor etiquette." Dio said, pointing a single black fingernail at the teenager opposite him.

"O-Oh, sorry…" Izuku quickly removed the offending body parts and brought them to his side with more than a little shame evident in his stiff body language. He'd just been on the receiving end of a salvo of corrections to his decorum, which was apparently several orders of magnitude more uncouth than he has ever expected. While the muscular blond had been soft of voice and fair in his observations, it still didn't do much to alleviate the red-faced embarrassment burning his cheeks. Suddenly, he felt very out of place.

"It's quite alright. Proper social practice is a winding mountain path with many sudden turns and difficult manoeuvres, and takes years to perfect," excused Dio with a wave of his hand. He took a deep drink from his porcelain cup, finishing off the last dregs of the beverage before reaching over to the teapot to pour himself another.

Izuku was quiet for a few moments before continuing, "Where did you learn yours?"

Dio looked up and smiled at his drinking partner's interest. "A lot of it is self-taught, but I tended to spend a lot of time amongst high society back home in England. Much of it involved periodical trips to London to attend some function or ball to appease some high-ranking official."

"Oh, you're English? I don't know much about the country, but I've heard that it's got a really rich history." Izuku took another tentative sip at the steaming liquid before continuing. "You speak really good Japanese for an English person, by the way."

Dio stopped pouring at this. "Japanese? We're speaking English," he said with an eyebrow raised.

Izuku's face took on a similarly confused look. "What? But I don't know any English apart from the basics, and you sound like you're speaking plain Japanese to me…" And it wasn't a lie, either. This entire time the giant of a man had been speaking Izuku's own native language like it was his first. He'd even said that last sentence in Japanese, how could he possibly say either of them was speaking English?

Dio's eyes became unfocused as he stared off into the distance. His lips began moving silently, mouthing words as the gargantuan man seemed to lose himself to whatever train of thought was currently running through his mind. The only think Izuku managed to make out was a barely-audible "overcome language barriers" before he meekly stepped in.

"Um, Mr Dio?" Izuku leaned forward with a concerned look. At the mention of his name, Dio regained control and looked over wearing the slightest frown on his face.

"Hm? I apologise, I was absorbed in thought. What you said about us speaking Japanese just now, I would like you to-"

But he never got to finish his sentence. All of a sudden the world around them began to dim, the oil-patterned sky fading to darkness and the horizon rapidly closing in on them.

"W-W-What's happening?!" Izuku cried, jumping up from his seat and frantically looking around in a circle like a cornered animal. What was going on?! The world was rapidly shrinking, the black maw surging forth like a malicious tsunami threatening to swallow them whole! He was going to die!

For whatever reason, though, Dio didn't seem worried. "If I had to guess…" he said, draining the cup again, "…It's because you're waking up."

"W-Waking up? What do you-"

* * *

"-mean?" Izuku bolted upright, looking around for Dio as he waved his hands before his face in a final attempt to cheat the rapidly approaching black veil of death. After a little longer than he would have liked to admit he realised that he was back in his own room, right where he'd gone to sleep on his bed the night before. The All Might clock on his bedside table flashed six thirty in the morning and blared its usual electronic chorus of the Pro Hero's signature catchphrase. Izuku lowered his arms and scratched at the sleep in his eyes as he hoisted his suddenly very heavy body off of the mattress and beckoned in the new day with a loud stretch.

He snuck past his mother's room, not wanting to disturb her rest on her day off, and made himself breakfast. It was a simple ensemble consisting of white rice and some of the previous night's leftovers plus a glass of orange juice. Fortunate that his mother had an unshakeable habit of preparing too much food for dinner and ended up with enough leftovers that they could probably feed a baby rhino for a week. While his body shovelled bite after bite into his mouth, his mind began to wander.

Dio. Now that he wasn't focusing all of his effort into not looking like a slob in front of the only person besides his mother and the odd sympathetic teacher to show genuine interest in what he had to say for over a year, it began to dawn on him just how… _different_ the towering man had been, in every respect possible. He had been so pleasant, a true gentleman with intimate knowledge of social etiquette that had been only too eager to share his knowledge. He'd shown him how to correctly pour tea in a social situation, corrected his admittedly poor table manners and, most importantly, treated him like a real human being worthy of attention and respect instead of just a Quirkless drain on the world around him, not even fit to breathe the same air as his 'evolved' peers.

But under that there was something different. The terror he had felt upon first meeting Dio, the speed and finesse at which he had dispelled that terror and the sheer charisma that seemed to fall off of him in spades. Dio had used his personality to take complete control of that conversation's direction as well as put him completely at ease without even noticing. He'd threatened Izuku at the start too, hadn't he? It was unthinkable to forget something like being given a death threat, but the towering Englishman had somehow managed to distract him from the fact in under thirty seconds. To be able to sway someone's emotions so easily, Quirk or no, was truly a terrifying ability. And all of that wasn't even getting into the possible implications of the language complication.

But then, was it real? It certainly _felt_ real. He could remember every single detail as if he were only just there, from the cool kiss of granite against his soles to the taste of whatever variety of tea he and Dio had been drinking. However, the empty space he'd been sent to was surely a fabrication of his exhausted mind, for no such place could possibly exist unless he had fallen under the effects of some dream-manipulating Quirk, and that only opened up a myriad of new questions. Whose Quirk was it? Dio's? If that turned out true, then why had such an important-seeming man taken the time to affect him? If not, then why had he and Dio been chosen as targets? Nothing made any sense. It was a line of thinking Izuku preferred not to pursue so early in the day.

Simply put, what happened last night was completely unorthodox, a totally unexplainable enigma even in today's superpowered society. And Izuku didn't know just how he felt about that yet.

"Good morning, Izuku. Did you sleep well?" His mother walked into the room in her nightgown, scratching the side of her face as she yawned. He didn't expect her to be up yet.

"Morning, Mom. I slept fine, yeah. What about you?"

"Oh, I got enough," she said and smiled, which judging from the circles of discolouration under her eyes was a barefaced lie. She grabbed a plate of her own and went to join her son at the table.

Leaning forward, the early-morning bleariness fled from her face as concern took over. "Izuku, are you sure you slept alright? It was really scary when you started screaming like that, I just didn't know what to do. You didn't have any more scary nightmares, did you?"

Izuku swallowed a mouthful of rice. So that's why she looked so tired. Inko had been so worried about him that she'd been unable to sleep right. If he had to guess, his mother probably hadn't gotten four hours. Guilt tugged at his chest as he realised the damage his outburst the night before had caused.

"No, it was only the one. I mean, I might have had another, but I doubt it since I didn't wake up screaming, plus there's that thing where your brain forgets most of a dream before you even wake up and then the rest except for the barest outlines after five or ten-"

Izuku felt an arm on his own pulling him back from his tangent and looked up to see his mother's smile. "Izu, sweetie, you're muttering again."

"O-Oh, sorry…" Izuku mumbled with a wobbly smile and growing blush.

"You don't have to apologise. It was you who asked me to stop you whenever you do it anyway, wasn't it?" After that, her face changed yet again. "I'm being deadly serious, honey. Anything, _anything_ _at_ _all_ that you need help with, you can show to me. I promise I'll do the best I can to help.

"You really scared me there, Izuku. When I heard you screaming like that, I-I didn't know what to do and I felt so, so _powerless_. I thought you might be dying. Even after I saw you weren't hurt at all, I just couldn't get it out of my head that my baby boy was in danger. You'll tell me if you ever feel like you're in danger, right, Izuku?"

Another blow to his heart. "I swear, Mom, nothing's wrong, and I promise I'd tell you if it was. I mean, I can't even remember what that first dream was about!" he laughed awkwardly. He didn't like lying like this, but telling his mother about the weirdly lucid dream and the man within it would undoubtedly bring even more restlessness that she definitely neither needed nor deserved. Besides, it wasn't like she could do anything, or needed to for that matter. What happened last night was all a dream. All a dream.

Izuku pushed away from the table and stood up. "I'm gonna go get ready in the bathroom now. I kind of took longer than I should have eating."

"Okay, honey, see you in a bit," Inko called after him. "Oh, and be careful if you take a shower! It's the first thing in the morning so it'll be colder than usual!"

* * *

Izuku stepped through the gates of his junior high, the pull of his bag filled with schoolbooks digging uncomfortably into his shoulders. Around him his schoolmates crowded in bundles of their social circles, eagerly drinking up every second until the bell summoned them for another day of slaving away at books and notepads. Yet Izuku joined none of them, opting to stay out of the way and snake a path through the crowd as quickly as possible. He was like a ghost going unnoticed by all, even the people he brushed against, as he finally slipped through the main door.

All except one, it seemed. Izuku's attention lapsed for only a moment, but it was long enough. He felt himself bump into something solid and staggered back a step. Upon looking up to apologise a fist curled around his collar and his breath hitched in his throat.

"Hey, Deku," Bakugo said. Midoriya could hear the sneer in the fiery blond's voice, "did you just try and push me? Are you looking to start shit with me?"

"N-N-No, Kacchan! I-I was just walking to class! I swear, I wouldn't have even thought to look at you!" The shorter teenager was already hard at work with his tried-and-true method of waving his arms in front of him much like an attempt to placate a wild animal. That could fire off explosions. And held him in blistering contempt since the tender age of four. Unfortunately, that only fanned the flames further.

"What?! You're saying I'm just fit to walk by like some nobody?! You think you're better than me?!" The taller boy's hair-trigger temper flared, as did the palms of his hands, at his ex-childhood friend's remark. Before Izuku could even attempt to fix it Katsuki shoved a palm an inch from his face, thick tendrils of acrid black smoke lapping at the green-haired teenager's bare skin as they seeped upwards to take a more permanent residence in the surrounding air.

Had Katsuki anger been a flame, then his usual contempt was a mere ember compared to the roaring furnace that the greenette's careless comment had stoked it up into. Control fled from Izuku's muscles as the bloody pinpricks of Katsuki's eyes settles on his own, sapping all strength from him as though meeting the gaze of some terrible, ancient beast of legend. But this was no beast, it was a spiky-haired teenager whose gaze was devoid of the childlike wonder and endearment that had overflowed from them years ago, replaced with the disdain born from a deadly concoction of pure skill and empty praise so potent that it had eroded all decency and empathy. Now the only thing left behind was an ego so grossly inflated that it considered an old childhood friend, merely a victim of poor fortune, a fit punching bag equivalent in worth to discarded waste by the roadside.

"Listen, you shithead Deku. You think you can just look down on me? Where are you even looking down from? I'm Katsuki goddamn Bakugo, the one guy from this cesspit of a middle school who's gonna rise above and get into UA, and the man who's gonna surpass All Might as the best Pro Hero of all time. I've got the brains and the Quirk to do the job right. You, on the other hand, are nothing but a Quirkless failure. Don't you ever, and I mean _ever_ , forget that."

With that Katsuki took his leave, striding off towards the classroom and leaving Izuku propped up against the wall to compensate for his legs' sudden lack of structural integrity. Fingers ran through the tainted grassy curls and came back smudged with the residual soot of the blond's threat.

He forced down the uncomfortable lump in his throat. That had been close, too close for comfort; even with his… _excessive_ personality, Katsuki never really used his Quirk for more than intimidation, letting his knuckles and hangers-on to do the real damage. This time, though, Izuku could practically feel the malevolence in those crimson pits strangling him as the corporeal self just barely held itself back. Being so close to Katsuki's Quirk and actually knowing that he wanted to use it was a completely different experience to the more mundane bullying he'd grown accustomed to, and it was one he could safely say he didn't ever want to experience again.

Why? What had he done this time that had inspired a response so much more vitriolic than the norm? He hadn't implied Kacchan was weak or something, did he? Izuku pondered this as he made his way to class, keeping an extra-keen eye out for any glimpses of straw-coloured blurs or flashes of orange-white light. To his knowledge he hadn't done anything particularly noteworthy, at least no more than he always did. He'd only told Katsuki that if he hadn't bumped into him he wouldn't have even noticed him, so there was no way he'd been trying to start a fight or anything…

Then, as he was about to place his hand on the classroom door, it hit him. Of course, it was obvious with a little thought. ' _Wouldn't have even thought to look at you_ ' translated to Kacchan-ese as ' _your existence is not even worth acknowledging_ '. Izuku cleaned his fingertips on his uniform with a resigned sigh. Why did Kacchan have to be so darn defensive?

Well, at least he'd made it out without any further bruising. He didn't think Kacchan would use explosion on him, but after the childhood they'd shared that was for from certain. With a deep inhale he pushed open the door and prepared himself for another draining day in the life of Izuku Midoriya.

* * *

 _-DIO-_

And so the day passed much like any other would. There were lessons, textbooks and notes on various flavours of academic disciplines, and before long the steady stream of knowledge was interrupted by the Westminster bell's chime, a wordless command the students were more than happy to follow. Soon after came more lessons and the eventual cleanup operation, which themselves finally lead to the blessed end of the day and the trip back home. As of now, dinner had been eaten and the clock's shorter hand drew ever closer to eleven, which seemingly meant that it wasn't far off time for Izuku to go to bed.

And of course, DIO was present for the entire thing.

The ancient vampire's world had been turned upside down more times than a child's ball-and-stick in the past seven hours. First off, his host was a joke. Nay, a joke would have been funny at best and deserving of an exasperated eye roll at worst. What Izuku Midoriya was… well, his extensive vocabulary was put to good use in describing it. At every corner, at every turn of the head a fresh brat materialised out of whatever rank pit of Hades they had spawned from. They would belittle him in numerous ways, ranging from hushed whispers amongst gossiping circles of makeup-plastered girls to full-on jeering and physical abuse from some of the larger boys, chiefly the quill-haired blond from the start of the day.

Which brought him to the more important discovery of the day - the widespread existence of superhuman powers. It all started with an encounter with a crass child Izuku called Kacchan - or was it Katsuki? It mattered little - in the doorway. At first glance he appeared to be merely another impulsive teenager, securing his place in the hierarchy with shows of force against those weaker than them as short-lived humans are wont to do. However, that all changed when a churning ball of smoke and flame appeared mere inches from his nose.

From that moment DIO's attention was completely absorbed by what he had just witnessed. A Stand? Here? And a user so callously displaying his power for the world to see? Well, he couldn't have been any more pleased! Predicting the every move of such a dimwit would be child's play, and manipulating those outcomes would be equally effortless. But then it started to go downhill. He was looking through Izuku's eyes at a chalkboard cluttered with messy middle-aged writing, simply pondering the best method to seize control of his newfound minion when the teacher… detached his hand on a pair of cables and picked up a stick of chalk from across the room.

DIO couldn't believe what his hosts' eyes were showing him. Another Stand user?! And they just went ahead and used their ability in front of an entire class! Worst of all, not a single student even batted an eye! It was as if they thought this was normal!

As the lesson proceeded on, though, understanding slowly began to dawn upon the spectating undead. As fate would have it the current lesson was modern history, and it just so happened that most, if not all, of modern history was deeply intwined with the emergence of the almost supernatural phenomenon known as 'Quirks'. Pyrokinesis, flight, gigantification, teleportation, super strength and so many others too numerous to list had appeared a little over a hundred years ago, forever changing the way society functioned.

In any other situation DIO would have been intrigued and elated in equal measure. One woefully difficult part of his previous rule was the difficulty of locating Stand users to recruit. If what the professor said about four fifths of the population possessing these Quirks was true, then selecting strong servants would be orders of magnitude simpler. This time, though, there was only a dawning horror. The speech had him thinking back to earlier, to what that Kacchan had said, and he realised the truth. Everything started fitting together like shards of clay and glass merging into a mosaic; why Izuku was so timid, why just about everyone looked down upon him, why he never used his own ability to retaliate or at least defend himself when threatened by others. It was plainer than day to see, his host was part of the ill-fated twenty percent that were born completely average, a second-class citizen in a supernatural world. Izuku Midoriya was Quirkless.

There existed no words in this language or any other that could adequately describe just how thoroughly infuriating it was! Not only had he, DIO, become stranded in a vessel that was an absolute doormat on every level but physical, but into the one doormat which had the grievous misfortune to be born into a world where everyone seemed to possess a unique ability save himself! Even that wretch Kacchan's body would have been a preferable alternative with its explosive palms. Dealing with such a wilful, arrogant soul would have been but a small price to pay compared to being forced to endure the same sad cycle of schoolyard bullying over and over again. To be dragged back in time to when he himself was an object to be walked all over by strangers, by…

And that wasn't even considering the year he was stuck in. 2134, a century and a half away from his own time! To think, so much time had passed in what was to him only minutes, maybe seconds. It left little hope of returning to scavenge what was left of his Egyptian empire or regrouping with his minions. He even felt a pang of sadness when he realised that he may never see Enrico again.

But there was still hope, wasn't there? Yes, even without a unique biological ability there were still paths to victory. Was not he, DIO, adequate proof of such already? He had coveted and taken and outwitted in his time in London's slums, eventually crawling out of that hellhole awash with crime into the ranks of high society even without the stone mask's blessing. Izuku truly was fortunate beyond his own comprehension to have him possessing his body. With his guidance the young boy would ascend beyond those who would dare to mock him and find another way forward. He would transform into a fit vessel for him, DIO.

If he could, DIO would have smirked. After all, he knew better than anyone that being born with supernatural abilities was not the only way to go about obtaining them. All he needed was patience, time and cooperation, and judging from how Izuku was busily brushing his teeth before his bathroom mirror, it seemed only a matter of minutes before he could begin.

* * *

 **As always, please don't hesitate to ask questions or leave both constructive and negative criticism.**


	3. Important Message

**Hello, everyone. I'm posting this update to tell you that I won't be continuing this story in its current state. This is because I am finding DIO's personality too difficult to write, as well as other reasons that I won't give away since that could spoil what's to come. Instead, I will be rewriting the first two chapters with Enrico Pucci as the main JoJo character instead of DIO. I understand that this may drive away some readers that haven't yet read Stone Ocean, but writing Pucci honestly feels like it will be more enjoyable to write than DIO.**

 **I will be reusing much of the material I have already written, though still changing it to better fit Pucci's character. On one hand the chapters will be out quicker than if I were to write one from scratch, but you will have already read many sentences as well as the entirety of Midoriya's first appearance. You can read the new ones if you want, and I would encourage it, but I understand if some of you decide not to. As for any new readers joining, I would say waiting until the new Pucci chapters come out would be a better idea than reading what I've already written for DIO.**

 **Sorry for the inconvenience, see you all later.**


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